


The Missing Book - Pearl's Story

by Hey_You



Series: Missing Book [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hey_You/pseuds/Hey_You
Summary: A continuation of "The Missing Book" featuring Pearl's story, and told from her perspective. Written years ago, and just recently dusted off and brought out for your consideration.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Hunger Games characters and settings belong to Suzanne Collins ... thanks for allowing me to borrow them. ;-) Happy reading!

Dad stands at the stove flipping pancakes. Mom sets the table. Twice she's stood close to dad and whispered in his ear. Once he chuckled low, and the other time he leaned his head toward her and rested it on her forehead. That time, Mom moved her hand to his neck, and kissed him softly.  
  
They're always affectionate, and have always been more affectionate than any other couple in District 12 that I know of. The only other couple that comes close is Uncle Gale and Aunt Johanna, but even they don't kiss or hug or just hold each other as often as Mom and Dad. Sometimes Mom and Dad make my friends uncomfortable, but I love how they show their love for each other. Four children are living proof of their love affair. Two planned, and well, two entire surprises but no less loved.  
  
They are both 44, but could be mistaken for 30. In spite of four children, Mom has a flat stomach and appears as trim as she did in her wedding photo 25-years ago. Her hair is still a deep brunette and her skin is nearly flawless. Dad is still boyishly young with a full head of blonde hair, strong chest and trim waist. Mom is still the most beautiful woman in the entire district, or all of Panem to be honest. Dad is still the handsomest. As Mom points out with a touch of irony in her voice, "Peeta, the years have been good to us." To which Dad always nods, and pulls her close for a kiss.  
  
"Peeta, do you want orange or grape juice?" Mom asks. She always starts with Dad, and he always answers the same way. "Surprise me." Mom grins as she pours grape juice in his glass. Then she starts around the table with her two offerings.  
  
"Pearl?" I'm the oldest at 14, almost 15. Mom calls me the perfect mix of her and Dad, but I don't know. My hair is the color of Mom's, but my eyes are definitely Dad's. Since I was little, I've helped at the bakery but I also love trekking in the woods with Mom.  
  
"Grape," I say.  
  
"Koal?" He's my 11-year-old brother with blonde hair and gray eyes that mirror Mom's. He can be annoying at times, but he's the artist in the family. His drawings win prizes every year, and this summer he took an interest in taxidermy. But it's his voice that is his biggest talent. On winter evenings, Mom and he harmonize by the fire and sing a mix of traditional and more modern songs.  
  
"Orange."  
  
"Ivy Grace? She's my 7-year-old sister with blonde hair and blue eyes that are just like Auntie Prim's, according to Mom. But she's like my aunt in other ways. She loves to pretend to be a doctor, and tries her best to heal all the game that Mom brings home. So now Mom is extra careful about making sure that she no longer sees the animal before its been set on the table for supper.  
  
"A little of both," she giggles, and of course, Mom indulges her.  
  
Finally, "Hunter?" He's almost four, and aptly named because he's the male version of Mom. He's got her hair, eyes, and the beautiful olive tone of Mom's skin. In fact, he's the only one of us that acquired her tone. Ivory and Koal tan all summer long and keep it long into the winter. I'm fair skinned like Dad, but Hunter keeps his shade year-round.  
  
Hunter grins at her and his smile is pure Dad, just like his personality. He's laid back and easy going. "Milk!" Mom tousles his hair and reaches for the milk, then returns the containers to the refrigerator.  
  
My Dad has a huge stack of pancakes and is now fashioning two bear-shaped pancakes for Ivy and Hunter. Mom pulls the bacon from the oven and begins distributing it. She gives Dad four pieces; Koal and me, three; Ivy, two and Hunter gets a single piece. Then she takes the last three for herself. Dad starts over with the pancakes and Mom meets him halfway handing off the empty bacon plate and taking the plate of pancakes from him. She pauses to kiss him and both linger a bit longer.  
  
"Mama?" Hunter asks. "Why do you and Daddy kiss so much?"  
  
Mom turns and smiles at Hunter. "Now, if I didn't kiss Daddy, who would?" She loves to tease.  
  
"I would," says Ivy loudly.  
  
"So would I," answers Hunter.  
  
Mom nods her head seriously, setting her face in an exaggerated frown of acceptance. "Well, all right then. I guess I can let you two take over."  
  
Dad approaches her from behind, "Hold on there, Mrs. Mellark!" as he reaches around her waist and pulls her close. "I sure do want kisses from these two," he smiles at Ivy and Hunter, "but your kisses are more necessary to me than breath itself." It makes me smile to see how Mom looks at Dad and they are temporarily lost in one another. He raises his fingers to her cheek and rests there while he moves in to kiss her one more time.  
  
As she pulls back, Mom says quietly, "Well, I guess I have no choice then, I'll just have to keep kissing you." They share a smile before Dad puts down the bear pancakes for the little ones, then pulls out Mom's chair for her and moves to seat himself. His eyes meet hers across the table for just a second before the general chatter takes over.  
  
I'm usually not one to analyze my parents actions quite so closely. They have always just been Mom and Dad, almost always outrageously in love, but today is different. There's been a month-long build-up toward this weekend. In late July, a letter arrived which sent Mom into kind of a spin that only my Dad could alleviate.   
  
There were whispered conversations, and some mornings Mom would arrive to breakfast looking like she had cried the better part of the night. On those mornings, Dad would be stressed and he would spend several minutes holding her with both arms wrapped tightly around her. I had begun to worry that something was seriously wrong with one of my parents.  
  
Aunt Johanna, who's always a frequent visitor, would arrive and spend a long time talking to both my parents. Aunt Jo and Uncle Gale live together, but never married. They don't have children together, but Uncle Gale has children with other women. It's considered quite scandalous, and Mom and Dad only whisper about it but I overheard that something is wrong with Aunt Jo that prevents her from having children, and Uncle Gale could never accept it.    
  
Each time a new child is born, Aunt Jo kicks him out for awhile but eventually takes him back. One night Dad commented that most every district has a Hawthorne offspring. Ironically, when they are together though, they seem to be in love with each other and look at each other with almost the same look my parents share. Almost.  
  
But those are just details which are not entirely important to today. Last week, I heard part of the conversation with Aunt Jo. Mom started crying and Dad became defensive. He and Aunt Jo stood toe-to-toe, in a loud whisper argument. It was Mom who finally stopped it simply by stepping in front of Dad and putting her arms around his neck and resting her head on his chest. That gesture always makes Dad refocus on her no matter what.  
  
"Peeta, it's time," she said, looking up at him. "Let's bring the trunk down and let Pearl know it's time."  
  
Dad nodded gravely, and Johanna, so heated moments before, rubbed his back affectionately. "I'll be right behind you if you need."  
  
Then, in an odd show of emotions, Aunt Jo came in the kitchen and hugged me. "No matter what, Pearl, remember those two — your parents — are one of the strongest, most incredible teams ever. EVER!" Then she was on her way out the door.  
  
Dad and Mom came in moments later, "Pearl, your Mom and I have some important things to discuss with you," he hesitated before going on. "We are going to take next weekend and spend it with you and go through some things you need to know."  
  
A sense of dread filled me, and ever since I have been focusing on them wondering what is going on. Divorce? Seems unlikely, especially after last night when I awoke to Mom sounding out-of-breath and repeating Dad's name over and over rather loudly. Afterward, they were both giggling like school children. Noises like that are not rare coming from my parent's room. In fact, they are nearly a daily occurrence, which according to what I hear from friends, is unusual. Sickness? Also seems remote because, just yesterday we all hiked to the lake for a picnic and swimming. Both appear robustly healthy. Still, I feel a sort of desperation to know what this weekend is all about.  
  
"Pearl?" It's my Dad's voice pulling me from my reverie.  
  
"Yes?"   
  
"Are you alright?" he questions, looking worried.  
  
"Yes, ummm, I-I-I'm fine," I manage to stutter. Mom is sitting closer to me and reaches a hand to my forehead to test my temperature.   
  
"Feels normal," she says, and Dad nods trusting her motherly intuition further than a thermometer.  
  
"I'm fine, really. Just thinking."  
  
Both my parents are looking at me with worried expressions, and then refocus on each other. There's a silent communication between them before my Dad says, "Well, we have a big day today and want to make sure you are feeling okay."  
  
Another wave of dread, but I nod and try to smile. Then I remember how they acted before Hunter was born. They spent a lot of time whispering then too, and there was the nervous morning meeting when Dad moved close to Mom and held her hand. "W-w-we have an announcement kids. We're going to have a new family member. Your Mom and I are expecting another baby, and while we don't know if it will be a boy or girl, we do know that the baby will be a welcome addition to our family."  
  
Then he had turned to Mom with a smile, "We have three wonderful children. Real or not real?"  
  
"Real," my Mom had answered quietly, tipping his chin toward her.  
  
"We are expecting our fourth. Real or not real?"  
  
"Real," she said again, and smiled and kissed him.  
  
I've never understood the game, real or not real, but they've played it all my life. Mom mostly always answers "real," and Dad looks like he's found out the answer to a question that would impact the entire universe. Sometimes the answer is "not real" though, and those times, Mom holds Dad tightly as he grips a chair or table. Soon after, Dad collapses into Mom and she holds him tightly, running her hands up and down his spine, still chanting "not real" over and over.  
  
Maybe the announcement is another baby. I peek toward Mom but she looks the same as always.  
  
"Is Uncle Gale going to take us hunting?" Hunter asks. He is by far Uncle Gale's favorite.  
  
"Probably," says Mom.   
  
The two boys seem excited about this proposition, but Ivy blanches.   
  
"Don't worry Little Duck," Mom says with affection, "Aunt Jo will take you berry picking." Mom and Dad have nicknames for all of us. Mine will forever be "Peanut." Koal is affectionately known as "The Boy," mainly because he was unnamed for so long because they were looking for the proper name for him. To this day, Mom and Dad look directly at him and say, "Hey, The Boy, what would you like to do today." It makes everyone laugh. Hunter is "Lil Man."  
  
As if on cue, Aunt Jo and Uncle Gale arrive. They do not knock, but rather Aunt Jo's voice precedes her, "How's life in the picture perfect Mellark household?" Mom rolls her eyes, and Dad grins at her. They walk into the kitchen and stand impatiently.   
  
Unlike my parents, the years have not been kind to them. Uncle Gale is mostly gray with a prominent bald spot. He's got a huge stomach that overlaps his belt by several inches, and I have a hard time figuring out how he still gets women. Of course, I've seen photos of him when he is younger and he was gorgeous, in my opinion. Sometimes I catch him looking at Mom in a strange way, but Mom never seems to notice and if Dad does, he chooses not to say anything. Aunt Jo is still trim, but her face is haggard and her hair is a steel gray too. She's several years older than Mom but still acts like a spoiled child at times.  
  
My parents seem so young compared to them, it's hard to believe they are contemporaries.   
  
Mom glances at the clock which is just shy of eight. "Almost done, Lil Man is just finishing up."  
  
"Well, hurry up, Lil Man, the birds of prey await," Uncle Gale says with some impatience. Hunter in response, stuffs the remainder of his pancake in his mouth and attempts to chew.   
  
"Gale!!" Mom says with exasperation, glaring at him.  
  
Dad tucks his finger under Hunter's chin and cups his hand. "Spit some of it out," he commands. Hunter obeys by spitting a rather large glob of partially chewed pancake into Dad's hand, but his mouth is still stuffed full. "Chew carefully and swallow little bits at a time." For the better part of two minutes, we watch as Hunter chews his mouthful of pancake and swallows it.   
  
"Geez, sorry," Uncle Gale says. "I didn't expect that reaction."   
  
"Yeah well, that's been your trouble all along, not thinking about your actions," Mom says. There's pain in Uncle Gale's eyes and he looks away.   
  
Aunt Jo pushes ahead quickly as if Mom might change her mind. She loves spending time with us and even comes over sometimes to "kidnap" one of the little ones for the day. "Okay, so we have a big day planned. Berry picking for you and me girly," she addresses Ivy, "and hunting to get the boys out from underfoot." She loves them too, but Ivy is her favorite.  
  
Mom and Dad love us all equally, but all the other adults in our life have a favorite. I'm Grandpa H's favorite and even though he's sixty-seven, he still likes to do things with me. He mostly gave up drinking the day I was born, cold turkey, according to my Dad. Koal is Effie's favorite and she keeps asking for him to go to the Capitol to stay for awhile.  
  
Mom is out of her chair first and moves around my Dad sliding her hand across his shoulders as she reaches to the back of the table and picks up Hunter. I watch as Uncle Gale's eyes follow my Mom and see her familiar gesture with my Dad. There's something there as he looks away quickly.   
  
She wipes Hunter's face and bends down in front of him. "Small bites. You know this Hunter. No hurrying. Nothing is important enough to hurry through breakfast." Her fear is real. When Hunter was two, he was eating a cracker and choked and we nearly lost him. It was only Mom's calm approach and long, slender finger that managed to save him. Afterward, she collapsed in a fit of tears, holding Hunter close to her and it took Dad hours to calm her.  
  
Mom picks him up and hugs him close. Her baby.    
  
Dad puts his hand out to Ivy and wipes the corners of her mouth. "Did you like your pancake?" She nods. "Give Daddy a big hug before you go, okay?" She hugs him and he picks her off the floor to squeeze her tighter. At times like this, I wish I was still small. Then he looks to Mom and holds out his arm to Hunter before passing Ivy to her. They repeat the process of hugging their babies.  
  
Koal is on his feet clearing his plate and grabbing Hunter's and Dad's. I clear Ivy's, Mom's and mine. Koal and I begin washing the dishes while Mom and Dad head to the living room with Uncle Gale and Aunt Jo to discuss the rules for the weekend. My parents have always been obsessive about our safety. Aunt Jo usually rolls her eyes through the process, but she seems to understand their need to go through the details over and over.   
  
"Here's the injector for Koal's wasp allergy," my Dad hands it to Gale, who will be spending the better part of the day with Koal. "Any questions?"  
   
"My God, Peeta, I could practically repeat that spiel right along with you two," Aunt Jo complains.  
  
"Yeah well, until you can Jo, we're just going to keep reviewing," there's humor there but also knowledge that he's absolutely serious.  
  
"Okay, Lil Man, run and get your bow," Mom says, as Koal and I join them in the living room. Hunter is off, pounding his way upstairs. "Koal, are you going to take your sketchbook? Gale will probably take you to areas I usually don't." Koal heads out to gather his sketchbook and pencils.  
  
"And you Miss Ivy," my Dad gathers her back into his arms, "Will you bring us back some raspberries for pie?"   
  
She grins and squeezes his neck hard. "Yes Daddy. I love you and Mommy more than anyone." That prompts Mom to walk over and hug them both. "Can I bring my doctor things?" Mom and Dad nod, and she wiggles free to get her new doctor kit with working stethoscope. We have never wanted for things, but Mom and Dad don't spoil us either.   
  
Hunter and Koal are back, and Uncle Gale bends down to examine the pint-sized bow he's carrying. "Hey, Lil Man. Look at this." The bow is perfect with a sheath of arrows made just for him. The arrows have regular tips not made for hunting. "Has your Mama taught you to shoot?"  
  
"Yep," Hunter replies. "Mama's the best shot anywhere."  
  
"She sure is," says Uncle Gale, and there's the funny look again. I guess it's always been there, but again Mom doesn't notice or is not looking. Instead, she reaches for Hunter and gathers him up for another hug.  
  
"Now remember, Hunter, you are not to aim your arrows at anything living, right?" Hunter nods. "They are just for practice."  
  
"Okay, Mama. I love you."  
  
"Good grief, let's get a move on," Aunt Jo sounds exasperated. "Damn long goodbyes."  
  
Dad is standing with his arm around Koal's shoulders and gives Jo a disapproving look for swearing. Koal knows something is up because, while it's not uncommon for us to spend a weekend with Uncle Gale and Aunt Jo to give Mom and Dad some "alone" time. It is uncommon for just the three of them to be part of the "adventure" without me.   
  
"The Boy," Dad says affectionately, "I bought you some new colored pencils the other day." He hands Koal a package of self-sharpening pencils that have a little string to cut away the outside. Koal's eyes light up, as he looks at the package that includes pretty much every color known to man. Mom hands him a leather pouch to carry them in. Koal blushes slightly.  
  
"I'll draw some place and see if you guys can guess," he says excitedly.  
  
"Well, we have plenty of room on the wall for your new masterpieces," Mom says, and comes over for a hug. "Baby Koal," she sighs. Koal exhales but knows the sentimentality is just our parents. Dad hugs him after. Koal's "masterpieces" take up at least one wall in most every room, so it's hard to know which wall Mom is talk about.  
  
It's always this way. Every time we say goodbye, it takes awhile.   
  
Finally, they are on there way with Aunt Jo glancing over her shoulder and saying, "Just let me know when you want me. Good luck, you two! You'll be fine."  
  
The door closes and there's the dread again.  
  



	2. The Book of Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for reading. The Hunger Games are the property of Suzanne Collins.

Dad gestures toward the big chair, and he and Mom take a seat on the couch. Their hands are clasped, and they look at each other for several seconds. "What is it!" I want to scream, but hold my tongue.  
  
"Pearl, your mom and I have tried to do our best in raising you and your brothers and sister. We've made mistakes along the way, but we love you very much."  
  
"My god, Dad, are you and Mom getting a divorce?" I can't help it, it just comes out.  
  
My parents stare at me in confusion. Dad's mouth is hanging open and Mom looks upset. "W-what? Why would you think such a thing, Pearl?"  
  
"Dad, it's clear that you and Mom are upset about something, and I just don't know what's going on. I mean that's pretty close to the speech that Josie's parents gave her before they split up."  
  
It was Mom's turn, "Pearl, sweetheart, your dad and I aren't getting a divorce." She looks at Dad at that point, "He's stuck with me!" Dad smiles, and leans his head toward her until their foreheads touch. "He completes me, understands me, loves me for who I am. Without him, I … would be lost," and her voice catches. Dad moves his arm around her shoulder and gives her a reassuring squeeze.  
  
"Pearl, your mom is the only woman I've ever wanted or will want. I won't ever let her go because I worked too hard to get her. I don't know what we did exactly that made you believe that we would get a divorce, but trust me when I say, every day we are stronger than the day before."  
  
I'm embarrassed. All the signs of their love have been there all along. "Then what is it? "Are you guys sick then?"  
  
Again, they both shake their heads in confusion. "Pearl, we are both fine, but there's something you need to know before school starts. Please be patient, and we'll explain it all to you."  
  
I sit back, and nod. Still fighting the nausea in my stomach.  
  
"Peeta, I think we should start with a little bit of our history."  
  
"Good idea, love. Why don't you start?"  
  
"No Peeta. You start. At the beginning."  
  
"Okay, some of this you already know, Pearl, but we're going to go over it just the same." He takes a deep breath, Mom squeezes his hand. "District 12 was much different when we were growing up. There were two very distinct groups of people, those from the Merchants and those from the Seam. Your mom was from the Seam and I was from the Merchants, and there was not a lot of crossover."  
  
He looks to Mom, who nods in affirmation. "When we were really little, there were only a couple of times that your mom and I actually had an opportunity to see one another, although your mom never bothered to take notice of me." He's grinning at Mom who is scowling.  
  
"Really, Peeta!" She shakes her head in mock disgust.   
  
"The first time I saw your mom was the first day of kindergarten. She wore two braids instead of one, and she had on a red checked dress. She was holding her father's hand. Later in the day, she sang the 'Valley Song,' and that was it, I was a goner." His eyes are gentle and lost in recall. Mom has a slight smile, and I've heard the story before but love how Dad tells it.  
  
"Over the next few years, I tried everything to get your mom to notice me, and she just refused."  
  
"Peeta!" Mom lets out an exasperated sigh. "I'm taking over!" Dad just smiles. "When I was 11-years-old, my dad died in a mining accident. My father was always a provider, he would go hunting to make sure there was food on the table. After he died, Mom, your grandma, closed in on herself, leaving Prim and me to fend for ourselves. We had a month of rations, and when they were gone, no way to really feed ourselves."  
  
It was her "boy with bread" story, which we had also heard before, but without the details. We had always just heard how Dad gave her bread when she really needed it.  
  
"Prim and I were starving. A slow death. One day, it was particularly bad, and I went to the Hob, the old Hob, and tried to sell some of Prim's old baby clothes." My dad is crying now, and Mom has tears in her eyes. My throat hurts so bad, I can hardly swallow, and I can't imagine my mother being so desperate.  
  
"When no one would buy them, I started rummaging through dumpsters hoping for a scrap of food." She stops now, and looks to Dad, again there's the hand squeeze, as if he's signaling he will take over.  
  
"Your mom stopped by the bakery, and my mom, your grandma who you never met, saw her and chased her away," his voice catches, and his eyes are faraway. "I saw your mom sit down under a tree, and I feared she was going to die. I had to do something, so I walked over to an oven and increased the temp just enough to burn the bread inside. Mother caught me, and, well, she hit me, and sent me outside to feed the bread to the pigs. Instead, I tossed them to your mom. I should have just walked over and handed them to you." It's easy to tell that they've had this conversation before, because Mom shakes her head vehemently.  
  
"Peeta, you saved our lives. You gave me hope that things would be better."  
  
Then I realize what he said, Grandma hit him. "Did your mom … spank you?"  
  
"Mother? Ummm, no she hit me on the face with her fist." I grimace, my parents have always been pretty gentle disciplinarians except for a swat now and then on the behind when we did something that might have gotten us hurt. "Your Grandma was not a happy woman. She did not like being a mother, and when she was angry or frustrated she would hit. Usually me, though sometimes my brothers too." Dad never speaks about his family, and I'm surprised to hear he's got brothers.  
  
"Anyway," Mom continues. "Your dad gave us bread which was perfectly good, and some of the best I had ever eaten. We ate supper that night, and breakfast the next morning. I went to school and wanted to thank him, but I couldn't find the words. Instead, I found a field of dandelions and picked some and went home and we ate them for supper. Your dad gave me hope that day that we would survive. I knew I would have to be strong to help us survive, and I started to go beyond the fence to hunt, first for plants and then animals."  
  
Dandelions is a reoccurring theme in our house. One wall of my parents bedroom is painted in a large mural of a field with a bright blue sky (the color of Dad's eyes), and a field of tall grass dotted with thousands of yellow heads. But dandelions are everywhere in our home.  
  
"Once I started actually bringing home supper, I knew things were going to be fine. That we would survive. Oftentimes, we ate better than anyone, and I would bring home enough to trade."  
  
Once Mom has stopped, I breathe out. "I understand now why you needed to speak to me alone. That's really sad, but I'm glad that I know."  
  
Dad shakes his head, a small smile on his face. "Pearl, we haven't truly even gotten started telling you everything. You see us as your middle-aged parents, but in reality, your mother is the reason that today, you and your brothers and sister, enjoy the life you do. It all started long before you were born."  
  
"It wasn't just me, Peeta. You were important, as important as me." He laughs and shakes his head.  
  
"Pearl," my Dad continues. "I know they taught you some about the Hunger Games already. What do you know?"  
  
The Hunger Games? My mind searches for the scraps that we have been taught through the years, nothing much, kind of insignificant details. "The Hunger Games were an annual event that was established by the Capitol to remind the Districts that they were under the control of the Capitol. They were abolished after the revolution."  
  
First they nod slightly, as if they expect  me to continue, and then realizing I'm done, they shake their heads a bit in disgust. "Well, we did ask for generic," my Mom says. Dad raises his eyebrows, and nods his head.   
  
"Sweetheart," Mom explains. "A lot of what we have to tell you is going to be disturbing. We will go slow, and you let us know if you need a break, okay?"  
  
I nod.  
  
Big sigh, followed by, "The Hunger Games were an annual event, but one that we, as children lived in fear of. It was a diabolical plan by the Capitol to control the Districts, and the 'games' part was far from fun for the participants, although there was a lot of betting on the outcome. Every year, children between the ages of twelve and eighteen would be gathered together for a so-called reaping in each of the twelve districts."  
  
Mom looks to Dad, who is watching her intently. He nods for her to continue.  
  
"One boy and one girl from each district was selected to go to the Capitol, where they would be trained to enter an arena a few days later, and fight the other children to their death. There was only one 'victor.'" She says the word with emphasis.  
  
My parents are focused on me now. The words sink in, "Death?" I squeak. They nod. "Children?" I squeak again. They nod again. Finally, her last word "victor" catches my attention. We live in a place called Victor's Village. I always just assumed it was some sappy name given to the area because there were so few houses here, and most looked better than those in the village. "Victor, as in Victor's Village?" They nod for the third time. "Then, one of you was a victor?" But then I remember that they have another house here too, which we allow other families to stay in and my Dad sometimes complains about the upkeep. "Both of you are victors?" I manage to get out, even though the implications are that they killed other children to get these houses. Together, they nod one more time, their eyes betray the sadness in their souls.  
  
My parents wait for me to digest the information. A part of me wants to run, but I can hardly reconcile my parents as being blood-thirsty killers, so I know I need to hear the story. My assumption is they were in separate games, and came back here and fell in love in the village. I need to hear this, I need to understand. "Go on."  
  
It's my dad's turn. "Pearl, the kids from the Seam, were usually more in need of extra rations, so the government allowed the kids eligible for the reaping to put their names in extra times for their family members. So your Mom had her name put in once for herself, and then once for each of her family members, which increased the odds of her being selected. Each year, her name was put in the same number as the previous year, plus an additional four times for that year. Because I was from the Merchant sector, my name was in one time for each eligible year."  
  
I take this information in, and realize that it was indeed a much different time.   
  
"The summer we turned 16, your father's name was in the reaping bowl five times. My name was in 20 times, and it was Auntie Prim's first reaping. We had to dress in our finest, which in some cases was just clean rags. That day, I wore a blue dress that belonged to your Grandma, and your Dad was dressed in a white button down shirt and gray slacks. Prim had a flower print dress on."  
  
"We gathered in the square, and it was a hot, hot day," my dad continues. "Effie was there to conduct the reaping."  
  
"Aunt Effie drew the names?" I ask incredulously. They both nod again.  
  
"She always started with the girls," Mom is faraway now, her voice is quiet and her eyes focus somewhere beyond me. "Effie reached in, and incredibly drew out the single slip of paper that contained 'Primrose Everdeen.'" I gasp because I never knew my aunt. All I know is she died young. I realize she must have died in the Hunger Games. Maybe this house we live in was a consolation prize to the family. But Dad is speaking now.  
  
"I heard the name and could not believe that little 12-year-old Prim was selected. It was always hard when the child was young. Prim shifted from her group and made her way to the center where some men called Peacekeepers moved to escort her to the front. Before she took a step or two, I heard your mom's voice calling to her, and suddenly I heard, 'I volunteer.' My heart sunk, because here was the girl I had nursed a crush on for forever, volunteering to go to certain death. She made her way to the stage, and the crowd was not happy. They never were, a tragedy all the same but I was proud of her, how she stood tall and straight."  
  
"Within minutes though, my world would tumble a little further," and it was Mom's turn again. "I figured that Gale would probably be joining me in the arena because his name was in more than anyone's, 42 times! I did not really have time to collect myself though. Never considered that it might be someone else, until Effie called out, 'Peeta Mellark.' The only other boy that I really did not want to face in the arena, my 'boy with bread.'" Dad leans in close and kisses her temple and her free hand touches his neck.  
  
"Wait! You were in the same Hunger Games? But there is only one victor, right?"  
  
"For seventy-three previous Hunger Games, there had been a single victor, but they never planned to meet someone as resourceful as your mother." He's teasing a bit, but he's looking adoringly at Mom.  
  
"It wasn't all me, Peeta and you know it," and for a few seconds they are lost in each other, maybe even a different time.  
  
The next hour is spent telling me about the train ride, their entrance. Mom laughs at their agreement to pull the flaming capes off each other. It's more than I can even visualize. They discuss the training, and how Mom impressed the judges by shooting an apple out of the pig's mouth, and Dad was awarded an eight for his strength.   
  
"The evening before we entered the arena, your Mom wowed them with her dress that flamed up around her when she twirled."  
  
"Wait, that's the dress you are wearing in the painting in Dad's studio, right?"  
  
"Yes," Mom confirms and she's still lost in distant memories, but manages a smile. "Cinna made that for me, 'the girl on fire.'"  
  
"Indeed," says Dad, "the girl on fire. She took my breath away and gave me courage to say what I needed to say. I came on stage and when Caesar Flickerman asked if there was a special girl back home I answered honestly that there was no one, but when he pressed, I disclosed my long running crush on a girl. Caeser assured me that I would win her heart if I won the games, but I told him that would not work. When he asked, I merely said, 'because she came here with me.'"  
  
"Oh my god!" I can't help it, it was such a romantic gesture and so like Dad, I actually had tears running down my cheek. Both of them are smiling, but my Mom is shaking her head slightly.  
  
"Takes after you, Peeta. One hundred percent!"  
  
My dad's chuckle is low and soft. "Hunter will be the one who laughs in my face when I tell the story," he says with confidence. "Your Mom was … less than thrilled with my admission. She thought I was saying it for game purposes. So I …"  
  
"Game purposes? But Mom …." I said in an exasperated tone, perhaps a little too loudly.  
  
Dad holds up his hand to silence me. It's not a threatening gesture, just one that said, "enough." The one thing Dad never tolerated was for any of us to ever challenge Mom about anything. "Pearl, you have the benefit of knowing that your Mom and I have been happily married for 25 years; however, I need to remind you that not so long ago, an hour ago maybe, you were convinced we were divorcing, so your Mom's reluctance at my admission is hardly earth shattering."  
  
"In those days, sweetie, it was not common for a Merchant to be interested in someone from the Seam," Mom explained. "Plus, your father was handsome and popular, charming and sweet. He could have had any girl he wanted."  
  
"Ummm. First of all 'was'?" his eyes are twinkling, "Also, at that time, there was only one girl I wanted and she was just out of reach."  
  
"Maybe she was 'out of reach' because you just did not make your intentions clear," Mom's eyes are twinkling too. "And, I will amend my earlier statement to say 'was and still is,' okay?"  
  
It's evident this discussion had taken place many times before but I enjoyed this glimpse into their past. I also am smugly aware that none of my peer's parents flirted as shamelessly as mine.   
  
My mom draws in a sigh, "Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, your father's admission and my reaction. I felt his words made me seem weak, but Haymitch told me that they made me seem desirable, something I had never felt before. Unfortunately, I had already pushed him and a vase had crashed and he cut his hands."  
  
Mom is working her thumb over the backside of his hand, "Later that night, though I found your Dad and apologized, and then he told me something that would stick with me over the next several years. He knew he would probably die, but he didn't want the Capitol to change who he was as a person. His words inspired my actions a lot both during those games, and after even though I was a little angry with him the night he told me."  
  
"You always say that you're not good with words, but you are you know," Dad says quietly. "Pearl, we are going to show you a video now. If you need to stop, we will, but it's important. There will be a lot of blood and violence You will see your mom and I kill people, children really. Remember, it was not our choice, it was them or us, and we were forced to do so by the government at the time."  
  
He put the small chip in the slot. A password box glowed on the screen, and Dad punched in the digits, and then the screen lit up with a barely recognizable District 12. We watched as Effie pulled Prim's name, and Mom volunteered. I was shocked at how young and innocent she was, only a year older than me.   
  
Next, Dad's name was called and he stepped out uncertainly. I watched as they shook hands, my Dad fighting tears. The next scene was the chariot ride, and I was so proud of them, holding hands, looking young and beautiful. There was some training footage, and I saw Dad's remarkable camouflaging skills, and Mom learning to build a fire. They showed off their skills to the judges, and even though I knew it was coming, I laughed out loud when the apple left the pig's mouth.  
  
The interviews follow, and I'm mesmerized  by Mom in her red dress. The flames lick up around her. I look at Mom, and back to the screen. In some ways, she's mere light years from "the girl on fire." Dad's eyes are misty. Then, it's Dad's turn, he's undeniably handsome, and I hear his words, and see the sincerity. I have to remind myself that Mom didn't really know him then, but I wish she would have listened.  
  
It's almost jarring when the next scene shows Dad and Mom rising from underground as part of a circle of children. Whoever made this video included the full 60 second countdown. The screen is split between Mom and Dad. I see Mom look over, and Dad's nearly imperceptible head shake, and then chaos reigns, as children are killed in the first few moments at the Cornucopia. I've never seen this level of violence. It's shocking and nauseating.   
  
I see Mom narrowly escape with her life, and head into the woods crashing into another girl. I see Dad joining the Careers. Mom walks far, sleeping in trees, and nearly dying of thirst. I see Dad go back and kill a young girl by a camp fire, but not before muttering a regretful, "I'm sorry." I see Mom's realization that Dad is with the Careers, and her cocky response to the cameras. As the video progresses, I realize just how much Mom is playing for the cameras, and it surprises me.  
  
There's the man-made inferno that chases Mom back toward the Career pack, and Mom's flight to the woods, climbing a tree. The boy named Cato misfires an arrow, and Mom taunts him. They spend the night there and Dad's eyes never waiver from Mom high above him.  
  
Rue comes into the picture pointing to a bees' nest high above, and making a sawing motion. Mom nods in understanding, and as music plays, she begins to cut the limb, not all the way, just far enough. In the morning, she motions for Rue to leave, and finishes it, sending it crashing to the forest floor below, where the bees swarm the people on the ground. Dad runs, but two of the girls are not lucky. Mom climbs down and has to remove the bow from a very gross-looking young woman full of stings.   
  
Suddenly, Dad bursts through the woods and starts yelling at her to run. As she gets up, the guy, Cato, runs forward, and he and my dad fight while my mom gets to safety, or relative safety. The young girl, Rue, is shown caring for Mom, removing the stingers, and chewing leaves to place on the stings to remove the venom.  
  
My dad, on the other hand, is severely injured, but somehow manages to get away from Cato, and hides in the mud along the riverbank. They flash between the two, and I hear my dad whispering my mom's name as he sleeps in the mud.  
  
Mom wakes up, finds Rue and asks about Dad at one point. I'm happy for this even though I know that Mom might have been doing it only because he was from her District. The plan to destroy the Careers food is boiled down to a 30-second synopsis. They show only Mom approaching the camp, the smoke in the forest beyond, and then her taking careful aim at the bag of apples.  
  
I'm stunned as Mom is blown backwards and crawls to the safety of a large bush, where she lays for hours trying to recover. It's obvious after awhile that her left ear is bothering her. She's panicked when she doesn't find Rue,  My heart is pounding when she hears Rue's pleas for help, and rushes in to free her from the net.  
  
Within seconds a spear has been thrown, and my mom has reacted with a quick arrow to that boy's neck. I grimace realizing that my mom has scored a "kill." I look over my shoulder and see her sitting with eyes closed, choosing not to relive this moment. My dad is whispering to her and she's nodding slightly, as he works his thumb over the back of her hand.  
  
I turn back to the screen as Mom sings softly to Rue, and then adorns her in flowers before moving away. Mom wanders the forest, no longer caring about her safety. She seems to be tempting the Careers to come after her. She makes a fire with no attempt to hide it. My heart is thumping in my chest. Finally, she climbs a tree for the night, and I feel a little less anxious.   
  
The announcement surprises me, two victors will be crowned if they are from the same District. Mom's first word, "Peeta," shocks me even more because she calls it out loud. Not just a quiet whisper. I now understand how they both survived.  
  
The next morning, she sets off to find my dad. The camera flips between them as Mom picks up a blood trail and presses forward. She pauses to look around, and my dad's voice rings out, "Here to finish me off, sweetheart?" Buried in the mud, he has done a remarkable job of camouflaging himself.  
  
The next several minutes are dedicated to showing Mom cleaning him up. I watch as she takes in the wounds to his torso, quietly bathing and treating him. Then, she works her way down his body, chewing up leaves and applying them to the Tracker Jacker stings. My dad sighing as some of his pain is relieved.  
  
When she gets to the gash in his leg, I see Mom recoil as if she might be sick. She turns a deathly pale, but that's not surprising. If one of us kids are hurt, Mom finds strength enough to stay close until Dad arrives. If Dad is hurt or bleeding, Mom nearly always collapses once his wound is treated, no matter how small. She doesn't handle our hurts and scrapes very well.  
  
Somehow, Mom manages, and when it's time to clean his underwear, I turn from the screen fearful they will show him naked. It's not something I want to see, and apparently Mom did not either, because I hear her tell him to cover himself with something. My dad laughs at my reaction, and squeezes Mom's shoulders tightly.   
  
Finally, she has him cleaned and ready, and they look for shelter, eventually finding a cave.  Dad looks so weak and frail, I'm scared again. Suddenly, the frame freezes. "Baby girl, come here," Mom says. I get out of the chair and walk over. Mom and Dad's legs are tangled together as they recline together. Dad holds out his arms, and I drop into his lap.  
  
"Peanut, Dad and Mom are both okay, relatively speaking," he's grinning, and I know he's easing the tension. "Maybe you should sit back with us for awhile." I nod, and Dad and Mom readjust their positions as I sit on Dad's lap, leaning back against his chest.  
  
As soon as we are all comfortable, the video resumes. Inside the cave, I see Mom hesitantly kiss Dad's cheek. "First boy I ever kissed," Mom interjects.   
  
"First girl who ever kissed me," says Dad.   
  
"No way!" Mom protests, Dad laughs. "I swear." He holds up his right hand as an oath. Mom just shakes her head and laughs.   
  
As the video progresses, Dad becomes sicker. You can see the worry on Mom's face. She's kissing him liberally now, as she coaxes him to eat or just plain live. After the announcement of the feast, I listen as Dad begs her not to go, and then the parachute arrives. You can see the realization on her face when she knows that the sleep syrup was intended to knock Dad out. She mixes it with berries and promises him that she will stay if he eats the "sugar berries." The look of betrayal on Dad's face is profound as he drops off to sleep. I watch as Mom eventually crawls back into the sleeping bag with Dad for some of the nighttime hours.  
  
During the early morning hours, Mom leaves the cave and you can read her mind. Either she's successful or she will die trying, subsequently ending both their chances, unless everyone else dies at the cornucopia. We watch as the girl with red hair races from the inside the cornucopia and grabs her backpack. Then, Mom heads in and grabs her own, but within seconds she's on the ground with a serious forehead injury.  
  
The next two minutes are shown in real time, and neither of my parents watch, but I can't turn away as Clove threatens Mom with an agonizingly slow death, only to be pulled off by the large black man and killed. The brief conversation between the man and my Mom is heart breaking because I realize I owe my parent's life to him. I'm sitting forward, and my dad rubs my back. My heart is racing as Mom finally stumbles back into the woods.  
  
The next scene shows her jabbing the tiny needle into Dad, and then passing out. Hours later, Dad comes to, only to find Mom in a large pool of blood. Carefully, he ministers to her, then eats a bunch of the food before a panicked, guilty look comes across his face. He cares for Mom through the night, and eventually Mom wakes up.   
  
The roles are reversed and Dad takes care of Mom. She tells him about Clove and Thresh, and how he didn't want to owe something. It's foreign to Dad. Growing up in the Mellark household was sometimes a study in contradictions. Dad was very keen to help people, even those who did not want help. Mom always instructed that we never take something for nothing. Yet oddly, Mom was just as generous helping people as Dad, while he was even less inclined to take something for nothing.  
  
Dad leans in and kisses Mom on screen. It's tender and sweet, and Mom looks disappointed when it ends. "The hunger?" Dad asks quietly. Mom nods as a slow, thoughtful smile spreads across her face. "The hunger." I don't understand this exchange at all.  
  
The next few events are shown quickly: hunting, the redhead's death, and Nightlock. Mom appeared so angry with Dad for not answering, but I know her. She always reacts that way when she wants to hide how scared she was. They spend another night in the cave and Thresh dies. It's just three left. Cato is the only obstacle to getting home.  
  
Dad and Mom make their way to the lake, and wait for Cato to arrive. Shortly, Cato comes crashing through the woods and runs right by them. The mutts arrive, and my parents point out how each one resembled one of the dead tributes. As they run, I see Mom take a lead over Dad and reach the cornucopia first. Dad is caught by a mutt which grabs his leg and tears. Mom pulls him up and they are panting from the exertion.  
  
The next scenes force me to bury my head in Dad's shoulder as Cato fights Mom and Dad, and holds Dad in a stranglehold. I lift my head as I see Dad point toward Cato's hand, and Mom fires the arrow hitting him right where Dad pointed, dropping Cato to the mutts below.   
  
I breathe a sigh of relief, but then watch as Mom applies a tourniquet to Dad's leg using her last arrow. The mutts growl below, tearing at Cato who continues to struggle. I see the worry on Mom's face as the hours drag by and no cannon sounds. Dad is pale as a ghost, and finally Mom removes the arrow from the tourniquet and fires it into Cato's brain. The cannon sounds, and the sky brightens, and I'm so happy that it's over.  
  
Together, they climb off the cornucopia and make their way to the lake, where Mom again fixes the tourniquet. Then I hear the announcement rescinding the previous rule change, and allowing for only one victor. I gasp, and Dad reassures me by squeezing my arm. "Your Mom is smart and resourceful, just wait!"  
  
I watch as Dad reaches for the knife in his pants, and Mom turns her bow toward him, but Dad drops it to the ground. I'm crying as I hear my dad say that Mom should kill him because they need their victor. At her hesitance, Dad removes the bandage from his badly wounded leg, hastening is death and causing Mom to drop to her knees and replace it in a panic.   
  
Then I see the defiance in my mom's eyes as she tells him they don't need a victor, and brings the Nightlock from her pocket. My dad is desperate for her not to eat them, but she dumps some in each of their hands.   
  
They stand back to back with one hand clasped. Dad tells her to hold the berries out for everyone to see. They begin the count, and both raise their hands to their mouth. Just as the berries enter their mouths, the booming voice calls them to stop, and they spit and quickly rinse their mouths. The hovercraft appears and they are taken up and Mom screams his name desperately as he is taken from her.  
  
All at once, they are rising through the stage floor. My Mom in a golden dress, looking younger than ever, and Dad wearing a golden shirt. They hug for ten minutes, and Dad pushes Flickerman away. We all laugh at this, and then watch as Dad takes a seat and Mom cuddles him.  
  
The final scene is an interview, during which Mom discovers Dad's leg was amputated. I see her shock and the realization, and she buries her head and cries.  
  
The screen flickers to black, and I'm emotionally drained.  
  
Mom sighs. "Has it really been twenty-seven years, Peeta?"  
  
"Yes, twenty-seven years, and I would not change a thing."  
  
Mom turns to him. "Oh there are things I would change. Most definitely."  
  
They pause, looking at one another for a long time. Mom's eyes are watery. "Oh I suppose there are certain things I wished would have happened differently at the time, but what if they changed the outcome? What if, instead of twenty-five years of happiness, we tired of one another quickly and ended up in a situation like Gale and Johanna? The outcome is something I would never change. Ever. So a few bumps and bruises in the beginning, are worth the final outcome. Don't you think?"   
  
Mom smiles gently, and shakes her head as she repeats, "Bumps and bruises." But then she leans in and kisses him softly several times. "You're right though, we have had a wonderful outcome, and I would not trade it for anything."  
  
A few seconds later, Mom says, "So there you have part one, Peanut."  
  
"Part one? There's more?"  
  
"Oh yes, sweetie, so much more," but we're going to go to the meadow for a picnic. The three of us. If there's any questions, we will answer them there, and then we will come home for part two, and Aunt Jo and Grandpa Haymitch will join us."  
  
My mind swirls wondering why Aunt Jo and Grandpa H. would need to join us for the second part, but we're already on our way to the kitchen to gather the old picnic basket that's already set up with all kinds of food.   
  
We head toward the lush green meadow, which is one of my favorite places, and spread the blanket under a midsize oak.  
  
"Questions?" Mom inquiries.  
  
My brain is swirling as I try to take in everything that I've just learned. The Hunger Games was an annual event. Kids died. Lots of them. My parents were part of it. Kids died. Lots of them. Some at the hands of my parents. My mom killed several. My dad killed one. My parents are good, gentle and loving people. My parents are the best. This is only part one.


	3. Questions and Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, the Hunger Games do not belong to me.

I actually have a million questions, but I try to sort through them to determine which is most important. I don't really want to deal with their role in the games, so  I exhale loudly.   
  
"I guess, I don't understand some things." My parents nod. "Dad, you had brothers? How many and how old were they?" He had never spoken of his family life before Mom and to my shame, I never asked either.  
  
Dad clears his throat, "Ummm. There were three of us. My oldest brother Thatch was 21 when I was reaped. He was engaged to the butcher's daughter, Margaret, but he loved another. Rusk was 18, and in his last reaping at the time."  
  
"They're dead now?" My dad nods, but offers no more information.  
  
"Why did your mom hit you?" I can't help it. I have to know.  
  
Dad halfway shrugs, and toys with Mom's fingers a bit. "Well, there's a long answer and a short answer. My mom was my dad's second choice. He loved someone else, but she chose a different man. Still, my dad loved my mother I guess, after a fashion. When Thatch was born, she was happy. They were happy. She wanted a girl to complete the family but Rusk was born. That was okay, but she still wanted a girl. You would think the third time was a charm, but it wasn't and I was born and all her frustrations were focused on me. When I was a baby, Dad used to have to change me and feed me because she wanted no part of me. Later, as a toddler she would hit me or knock me down, and my father began taking me everywhere with him but she hated me. As I got older, she began the emotional abuse by telling me I was unloved, unwanted and basically just ruined her life."  
  
It's hard to reconcile my dad with the abused boy he was. My dad is thoughtful, loving, gentle and one of the most compassionate people I know. Mom hugs him tightly.  
  
"I love you, Peeta. My only choice."  
  
"I would have waited a lifetime for you." They hold each other, and for the first time I'm beginning to realize there's so much more to the story.  
  
After awhile I ask, "What happened after the games? Obviously, there was happily ever after, but I  mean, well, where did you go on dates and stuff?"  
  
Mom and Dad exchange a glance, and then Mom looks down. "Well, Pearl, 'happily ever after’ did come, but not immediately and it was my fault. I started to have feelings for your dad during the games, but it was so new and I did not know how he really felt about me until I hurt his feelings. Some of it I did for the cameras, but most of it I did for your dad. On our way home, I told him it was all for the games and pushed him away, and I felt such a loss that I couldn't explain."  
  
"But Mom, why didn't you just realize how you felt?"  
  
"Pearl, I wish I had been more forthcoming with your mom before the games. I wish I had let her know what I felt. In the setting of the games, distrust is huge. Trusting in the wrong person can cost you your life. Everything was so new to her and she didn't know if I was just using her to advance myself in the game."  
  
"But Dad, weren't you hurt?"   
  
"Yes honey, I was, but I got over it, your mom and I became friends on the Victory Tour. She was a friend like none other, and I decided that loving your mom was much better than being hurt and wounded."  
  
"Mom …"  
  
"Honey, it's not easy to talk about. Before the games, I had two friends. My friend, Madge, who was the mayor's daughter and Gale, who I met while hunting when I was twelve. Through the years, Gale and I hunted together for the survival of our families. We would talk and exchange ideas. He was my hunting partner and for awhile, my best friend. I never thought of him as anything other because he had a lot of girls chasing after him."  
  
I sit wide-eyed, listening to the story.  
  
"When I got home from the games, things had changed between Gale and me, on his part. He was jealous of your dad, and believed that he had feelings for me. One day Gale told me, and I felt guilty. My plans were never to marry or have children because I never wanted to bring children into the world where they might be reaped. Still, there was a part of me that felt that Gale might be the one for me because we were so alike."  
  
I start to shake my head, but Dad holds up his hand waiting for Mom to continue.  
  
"Nothing much changed, and I so desperately just wanted things to be the same as before the games. Then, Dad and I went on our Victory Tour. We became good friends. More and more, I relied on him to get through the days. See, a rebellion was starting to take shape because of what we had done with the berries. It was considered an act of defiance to the Capitol. Because of the rebellion, President Snow visited me and threatened my Mom and Prim, and Gale and his family, if I could not persuade the districts my motivation was love.  
  
"So on the tour, we kissed … A LOT! We were super affectionate in public but that made me question my real feelings which were starting to surface. Dad and I knew that there would be only one direction we could go, and that was toward engagement and marriage."  
  
"You mean, you only married Dad because of … ."  
  
But Mom doesn't let me finish. "NO! NO! NO!" She doesn't very often raise her voice but she's unhappy now. "We married for love, Pearl, never doubt that. Peeta is my soulmate, the only man I ever truly loved, but our love affair, the real love affair, and marriage was largely kept private, between the two of us. "  
  
I nod as she continues, "At the time, I was only sixteen and so new to the feelings that I never really recognized them, but I knew your father was a friend like no other. At night, we shared a bed, but never the … intimacy that a bed would come to signify. Peeta would hold me when the nightmares would hit, and I would be there to comfort him, as well. No one could comfort me like your dad."  
  
Dad takes up the story, "When the tour ended, I proposed to Mom, but it was fake, intended only to put down the rebellion, which it did not. We headed home to District 12, and resumed our lives under scrutiny of the Capitol."  
  
"One day," Mom continues, "I decided that I wanted to run away from here. I wanted to take Mom, Prim, Peeta, Haymitch, Gale and his family. I wanted to make sure all those I cared about were out of harm's way."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"President Snow was threatening to kill my family, and those who I loved because of what I did during the games, so I wanted to make sure they were safe. Gale agreed at first, but then said no when he found out there was a revolution beginning. I also don't think he wanted Peeta to come with us. Your dad agreed. That afternoon, though, something happened that changed those plans. Gale was caught trading game by the new head Peacemaker, and he was whipped in the square."  
  
"Peacemaker?"  
  
"Our law enforcement at the time. We arrived in the square," Dad says, his eyes faraway, "and I climbed up to see what was happening, and that's when I saw Gale, and tried to stop your mom from looking. But she saw and rushed forward, and tried to help, and they brought the whip down on her, right across her face."  
  
I blanche at the thought and look closely at Mom's face.  
  
"On that day, I felt that your mom had chosen Gale, so I backed away. Well, as much as I could living  right next door." Mom brings his fingers to her mouth and kisses them.  
  
"You and Gale sure did a lot of assuming in your time. Things changed," she admits. "I did think I would be with Gale because I had some kind of messed up loyalty. I thought his friendship trumped your dad's love but in my heart I knew I had feelings for Dad, that were just not present with Gale. One day, I went to the woods and met up with some people escaping from District 8, who told me that there was still a District 13. All of our lives, and in fact for seventy-five years, the Capitol maintained that District 13 was obliterated.  
  
"When I got back to the fence, it was electrified once more, and I could not crawl under it, so I climbed a tree, and jumped to an overhanging branch, and then on to the ground. I hurt my pelvic bone and ankle, and limped home. When I arrived, there were Peacemakers waiting to take me away. Also there were Peeta and Haymitch, who helped to save the day. They were not rattled by the situation, and between the three of us, we put up a solid front. I collapsed after, and your grandma examined my ankle and pelvis and decided by ankle was cracked and pelvis bruised.  
  
"Peeta carried me to bed, and I wanted to ask him to crawl in and hold me, but I held back. Instead, I asked him to stay, and he said …."  
  
"Always," Dad's voice breaks a little, and he kisses Mom's temple.  
  
"Always. Only I did not really hear it because I was falling asleep, until later in a dream it came back to me. We were together every day. Your dad would bring cheese buns, and carry me downstairs. We would work on the family book, and I discovered I loved to watch his hands, and his face. The intensity of it while he sketched. I became lost in figuring out his eye lashes. How could such thick eye lashes not tangle?" She's smiling as she recalls the young girl she once was.  
  
"You were falling in love!"  
  
"Yes, I know that now. In fact, probably already in love. I also knew that when your father hugged me, I never wanted it to end. Ever. But that's a little ahead of the story. Snow was still pushing for a Capitol wedding, so my designer, Cinna, worked on several wedding dresses. Prim was so excited by the idea, that she couldn't wait for me to try them on. After my ankle healed, my prep team arrived and photographs of me in the wedding dresses were taken.  
  
"The next day, there was an announcement that there was a mandatory program on TV that night. I thought it was too early for the dresses, but it wasn't. They showed the six dresses, and asked people to vote. Afterward …." her voice trails off.  
  
"After the dresses, which were stunning but paled in comparison with the girl wearing them, President Snow took the stage to announce what would happen during the Quarter Quell — the 75th Anniversary of the Hunger Games. Every twenty-five years, they commemorated the games in a different way. During the 25th, the Districts had to nominate and vote who would go into the arena."  
  
I shudder at his words.  
  
"During the 50th, twice as many children were chosen. That was the year Haymitch was chosen, and won. I can't imagine facing forty-seven others to win." My parents both shudder this time.  
  
"Grandpa Haymitch is a victor too?" They both nod.  
  
"Because he won, he became a mentor for the next twenty-five years. So the 75th was upon us, and Snow read the card saying the participants would be reaped from the existing pool of victors from each district."  
  
Dad pauses now, and waits for it to sink in, and when it does, fresh tears spring to my eyes.  
  
He nods, and continues, "That's right, honey, and because your mom was the only female from 12, she automatically would go back in. It would be between Haymitch and me. Well, I went to Haymitch's house, and made him promise to let me go back in and told him he owed me for the first games, and I wanted to make sure both of us worked to get your mom out safely. Your mom, on the other hand, went to Haymitch with her own agenda — she wanted them to work to save me. Haymitch promised us both that he would help us save the other."  
  
"So you won again?"  
  
"Not exactly, Peanut," Mom says, "but that's getting ahead again. Your dad decided that our best chance of survival was to make us train like Careers, and for the next several weeks, that's what we did. Your dad was like some tough drill sergeant," she's smiling. "There was no love or even trace of friendship as he worked to get us into shape. In the evenings, we watched the games of the other victors to get to know them."  
  
"Finally the day of the reaping came, and Effie arrived to announce our names. One would be our mentor, and the other two would go back to the arena. Effie barely caught my name in the bowl, and then she turned to the boys. She pulled out Haymitch's name, but your dad quickly volunteered, and my heart constricted. Actual physical pain."  
  
Tears are spilling down my cheeks as I realize that not once, but twice they had to face death in the arena.  
  
"They took us right to the train, and we didn't have a chance to say goodbye, and maybe it was for the best in some ways. I thought I was going to certain death. My plans were to stick close to your dad and get him as near to the end as possible, and then get myself killed. His plans were the same for me. On board the train, Peeta was still cool toward me. After dinner, I went to bed, but a nightmare disturbed me, and when I went looking for him, I found him watching more video. He stood up and held out his arms, and I walked straight into them and felt the same warmth I always felt in his arms. I didn't want to let go."  
  
"That night," Dad continues, "we watched Haymitch's year, and discovered how smart he was and how he defied the Capitol too. Later, we discovered that they killed Haymitch's family, his little brother and his girl for his defiance."  
  
"That's why he's alone?"  My parents nod.   
  
"When we got to the Capitol, our stylists and prep teams were there. They had decided to dress us in glowing embers, and as we boarded the chariots, I took your father's hand and I selfishly realized how glad it was his hand I held instead of Haymitch's. We went in not smiling, not gracing the crowd with glances in their direction. We were the star-crossed lovers of District 12. We again stole the show with our defiance. The Capitol loved us and openly wept at the thought that we would not be allowed a future together."  
  
She glances at my dad, both temporarily lost in their memories.   
  
I took a second to gather my thoughts, and then blurted, "Wait, you were going to kill yourselves to save the other?" They nod as if they really owed no other explanation.  "Why?"  
  
It's Mom who answers, "Pearl, when you love someone with all your heart, you are willing to do anything for that person, even die. I was willing to sacrifice my life for Prim, and later on Peeta. To this day, I would sacrifice my life for your dad. But I would do the same for you, Koal, Ivy and Hunter, the five people in my life who mean more to me than my own life."  
  
"Your mother was the only one who I would have sacrificed my life for back then. I loved my brothers, but not enough to die for them. My life without your mom would have been meaningless. Likewise, I love each of you children, and for me too, there are five people who I would gladly sacrifice my life for today."  
  
I pause to think about my family, and wonder if faced with the possibility of losing Ivy, if I could be as selfless as Mom. I'm not sure, but I do understand what they are saying about love.  
  
"I think it's time we go home and watch the Quarter Quell footage," Dad says, but Mom reaches a hand for him before he gets up.  
  
"Pearl, you've asked a lot of questions about our relationship, but none about what we did in the arena to make it to the end. How do you feel about it knowing that I …"  
  
Before Mom can finish, "Mom, Dad, I want you both to know how much I love you. You have no idea how proud I am of you two on a daily basis, and really I had no idea of what you had been through. I'm sorry that you had to fight, but not sorry that you won, no matter how you won. I know that isn't who you are. I know now why you have nightmares. Please, Mom, you have to let it go. You have to forgive yourself for everything. It wasn't you who made the decision to have the Hunger Games, you just followed the rules to survive."  
  
Mom and Dad reach for me then and hug me close. Mom is crying freely and so is Dad. "I love you both so much. Never be ashamed of your past. You are both my heroes, everyday!" Mom is sobbing now as she holds me, and Dad tries to comfort her.  
  
"Pearl, I was so scared. I didn't want you to think less of me for what I did."   
  
I shake my head vehemently.  "I always knew you were special. Just not how special. I love you both, and I understand things a lot better now."  
  
We sit and hold each other for several minutes. I understand now why Mom has been miserable this last month. I can't imagine going through what she and Dad did, and then having to explain it to their children.  
  
Finally, Dad gives us one last squeeze. "My girls," he says, as he kisses the tops of each of our heads. His voice is husky with emotion. "We should maybe get back." Mom nods and we stand and start packing the basket.  
  
Just as we were starting to leave, we hear wailing coming from the direction of the woods. Mom stiffens. Dad looks back in surprise, and then Mom is running. Her pace is quick and Dad is not far off. Within seconds, we see them: Gale carrying a sobbing Hunter; Johanna with a sobbing Ivy in her arms; and a stoic Koal trailing behind.   
  
Mom closes the distance with Dad at her heels. Upon seeing her, Hunter starts squirming as he screams, "Mama, Mama, Mama!" over and over again, his little arms reaching to her. Ivy is out of Johanna's arms and closing in on Dad. Mom pulls Hunter close, and he buries his face in the crook of her neck, his little body wracked with sobs.  
  
"What happened?" Mom demands, as her hands run over his small body searching for something possibly broken.   
  
Gale looks flustered, "I … well … he took a shot at a rabbit and wounded it and got all bent out of shape about it and pissed himself."  
  
The anger in Mom's eyes is immediate as she directs a glare in Gale's direction. "Why was he shooting at a living animal?" Gale shrugs in response.   
  
"Katniss," Jo starts, looking scared which is not an emotion we often see on her face. "I'm sorry. Ivy and I were a short distance away in a raspberry patch when we heard Hunter crying. We went to see what was wrong, and I'm afraid it was too much for Ivy."  
  
Dad is holding her close and crooning soft words to her. She lifts her head, "Oh Daddy, it was awful, just awful. The rabbit was making this terrible noise and then … then …," more tears, and she can hardly finish, "then Uncle Gale cut its throat." My dad's eyes widen as he turns to Mom, who nods slightly.  
  
Dad sits down and Mom walks to him carefully sitting down and moving toward Dad so her legs are over his and her feet are on either side of his hips. It's the standard position through the years of dealing with family crises, discipline or sometimes just family talks. It's the way they handled situations when I was little, and I imagine how they handle things between themselves.  
  
Mom places Hunter on Dad's right leg, and Dad situates Ivy on his left leg. Mom leans in with her forehead resting on Dad's as if some unspoken agreement is being worked out as to how they will handle this problem. Then Mom holds out her arm toward Koal, who quickly kneels by her side.  
  
“Koal? How are you?"  
  
"I'm okay, Mom. It just kind of startled me. I .. I … think I probably won't do taxidermy anymore." Mom searches his smokey gray eyes. In personality, Koal is probably the most like Mom. He's quieter and more reserved. Mom finally nods, but doesn't say anything immediately. Instead, she pulls him in for a hug and Koal is quick to reciprocate.   
  
Dad looks in my direction and tilts his head indicating that I should join them. We deal with issues as a family. After today, I understand my parents so much more — why this sort of closeness is so important to them. I move to Mom's other side, and notice as I sit, Gale is looking particularly uncomfortable. I can't imagine Mom ever choosing him.  
  
After a minute or so, Mom squeezes Koal once more, "I understand if you want to stop, but maybe just think of it as a little break. You are so gifted Koal, it would be a shame to stop." Koal nods and gives her a slight smile.  
  
Mom turns her attention back to Hunter and Ivy. Hunter has settled a bit but ragged sobs still escape. His tear stained face is streaked with dirt. His hands work together nervously in his lap. Ivy, too is calmer, heavily leaning into Dad. Her face is pained and her cheeks are rosy red and streaked with tears.  
  
"Hunter," Mom begins, and he looks to her, his lower lip trembling. "Why did you aim your arrow at a living rabbit?"  
  
His face scrunches up and he starts to cry again, "Mama, I didn't know I was going to hurt it. I didn't. Uncle Gale told me to try, and I did … and I … I." He's sobbing uncontrollably again, and Mom reaches for him, gathering him close to her as he cries. She's rocking him side to side and Dad reaches over to pat his back.  
  
"Look, Catnip," Gale starts, but Mom is clearly not happy with his intrusion. "Katniss, okay? It's not a big deal, it's my fault anyway. You and I saw worse when we were little."  
  
"Gale, I don't care what we saw growing up. Hunter is not us, and he did not need to see this, and neither did Ivy or Koal. You heard me caution him about using it on a living thing, and you still told him to go ahead. How could you? You knew those arrows aren't meant for actual hunting!"  
  
"Okay, it was a mistake. I'm not a father," Gale says, and Johanna scoffs at his admission. He sends a silencing glare in her direction. "I didn't think he would hit it. There's more of you in him then I thought." He probably means it as a compliment, but Mom doesn't look happy. "I …" but Mom cuts him off with the same hand gesture Dad uses to bring silence to us.  
  
"Hunter?" His face is still buried on Mom's shoulder, and his arms are wound tightly around her neck. "Hunter, look at Mommy." He raises his head and swallows hard. "Hunter, Mommy told you not to aim at anything living. Do you understand why now?" He nods, sucking in his breath. "Lil Man, Mommy knew that you were not ready to shoot at anything yet. You are too little to try to hunt yourself, and your bow is meant to practice until you are ready." Hunter nods again.  
  
She sets him on his feet. "Hunter, Mommy is going to take your bow and arrows for awhile. Okay?" Fresh tears spill down his cheeks as the shock of what she is telling him sets in. "Just for a few days, and then you'll only use it when I'm around to supervise, okay?"  
  
"Katniss …" but Gale doesn't get a chance to finish as this time, Dad scowls at him.  
  
Hunter is wiping his eyes and nose with the back of his hand as Mom settles him back in Dad's lap.   
  
"Ivy? Tell us again what happened."  
  
Ivy has been sitting wide-eyed staring at Hunter while Mom has been speaking to him. "We heard Hunter crying and screaming, and we ran to where they were and the rabbit was … she was … oh Mama, what if she had babies?"  
  
Upon hearing this, Hunter collapses his head to his knees and sobs uncontrollably. Dad rubs his back tenderly.  
  
"Ivy, let's not guess about something like that, okay?" Ivy nods. "You know, sometimes we eat rabbits for food, right?"  
  
"I'm never eating rabbit again, Mama, no matter how much I like the stew." She shivers and Mom pulls her close.  
  
Mom took me hunting from the time I was a baby. She took all of us in a pack on her back. We learned from a early age that Mom was an experienced hunter that took down game in a single shot. I never saw an animal suffer at the hands of Mom. Two years ago, after years of practicing, Mom let me take a squirrel for the first time, and I was proud of my accomplishment. This year will be Koal’s first opportunity to shoot if he wants.  
  
Ivy was the only one that was bothered by the idea of hunting, and when she told Mom, it was decided that Ivy would no longer hunt with Mom. She respects our differences.  
  
As a trade off, Ivy spends extra time with Dad in his studio or at the bakery. That too, was something we all did, and there were "works of art" from our babyhood forward. Mom and Ivy still have special times together too though. Mom takes her berry picking, and gathering in the woods, and the garden is their special project.  
  
Ivy begins to calm in Mom's arms but she suddenly draws back, "Why did he have to cut its throat, though? I might have been able to save it."  
  
"Little Duck, Uncle Gale has hunted a lot through the years, and he knows when an animal has been wounded badly enough where it's better to … let it go than to try to save it. Sometimes it's more merciful. Understand?"  
  
Ivy nods, but doesn't look convinced. "Sweetie, I'm sorry that you saw that, and I'm not sure how to fix it. I wish things could be different, but they are not. You don't have to eat rabbit anymore, I promise.  
  
"Why did he shoot it anyways? He knows that he's not supposed to shoot." Her tone is angry and accusatory as she looks at Hunter, who's still crying with his head down.  
  
"Ivy, Hunter feels bad about what happened. It was a mistake. Being upset with him doesn't help."  
  
"I'm sorry," she says looking at her little brother who hasn't acknowledged her apology. "Sorry Hunter," she reaches over and hugs his neck. "I know you would take it back if you could."  
  
Hunter pops up quickly, hiccuping noisily. "I would! I would sissy! I didn't mean for the bunny to die. Honest I didn't," and he stands to quickly hug Ivy. "I'm sorry too."  
  
Mom and Dad exchange a smile as they watch their two youngest children. Ivy has always been protective of Hunter. If the truth be known, we all are, but she's the one who reads to him in the evening, and she's the one who most often plays games with him in the backyard.   
  
"Okay, Lil Man, let's get you into some dry clothes." At that Hunter, looks down in shock, and realizes that he's wet and more tears fall.  
  
"Oh, don't cry Hunter," Dad says softly. "You got scared. That's all."   
  
"But … but … but I won't get my reward!" This summer, Hunter has had a few accidents when he's been too busy playing and ignored the urge until it was too late. Dad and Mom decided to set up a reward system for him when he has a dry week. His rewards usually come on Sunday night, and are never anything big but they mean a lot to him.  
  
"Tough day for you, huh Buddy? You'll still get a reward. This happened because you were scared not because you ignored it."  
  
"Really, Daddy?"  
  
"Really!" Hunter wraps his arms around Dad's neck. "Okay now, let's get you in dry clothes.  
  
Jo brings over the bag, and Mom quickly reaches inside and pulls out the set of clothing that she sent along just in case. Dad undoes Hunter's suspenders in back, and Mom undoes them from the front. Dad pulls his t-shirt off, and Mom quickly unbuttons his jeans.  
  
"Nothing like tag team stripping, is there Hunter?" Mom smiles and Hunter grins back. "Foot up!" Mom removes his boot and feels the sock before pulling it off. She quickly removes his other boot and sock before tugging his jeans and underpants off. She raises her eyebrows at him. "Naked boy!" she calls out and he giggles.  
  
She passes his clean t-shirt to Dad, and then holds out his underwear for him to step in. "Such a cute little baby butt," she says, "just like your …," but she doesn't finish, only grins at Dad. She puts on his clean jeans, and then she and Dad quickly reattach his suspenders before Dad pulls him back on his lap for the socks. Hunter wears little replicas of adult hunting boots, and Mom and Dad patiently strap them back on.  
  
"There you go! All dry again!" Mom reaches back into the bag and pulls out a washcloth and quickly wipes his face, and then hands it to Dad to finish wiping Hunter's hands. She grabs a second cloth to wipe Ivy's face. She lets Ivy hold the cloth and press it to her eyes.  
  
"Mama?" Hunter looks at her. "Are you mad at me?"  
  
"No Hunter, I'm not mad at you."   
  
He smiles softly at her. "Do you still love me?" His voice breaks a little and tears are welling but none drop.   
  
"Oh Hunter, of course, I love you. I will always love you, no matter what. Nothing will change that … ever!"  
  
Hunter launches himself into her arms and wraps his little legs around her middle. "I love you too, Mommy!"  
  
I hear an exasperated sigh, and I look up into the rather angry face of Gale. I try to picture what it would be like to have him as my dad instead of Dad. My gentle, wise, loving father. I can't imagine Mom ever being happy without him.  
  
Soon, Mom stands to her feet and offers a hand to Dad, as she pulls him up. "Here go to Daddy a minute, Hunter." He complies and Mom takes Ivy. "Baby girl, tomorrow evening, we will go out in the woods and look for any babies that she might have left behind, okay? If we find them, we will take them home and care for them."  
  
"Oh Mommy, can we go now?"  
  
"No sweetheart, not now. Daddy, Pearl and I are spending time together right now, and that's important. They will be fine until we can check tomorrow." Ivy nods and squeezes Mom tight.   
  
"Mama?"  
  
"What Hunter?"  
  
"Can I please come home with you and Daddy? Please?"  
  
"Sweetie, you are going home with Uncle Gale and Aunt Posy is going to be there."  
  
"Aunt Posy?"  Hunter says excitedly. He loves Posy, who is not really our aunt, but she has always treated us like her nieces and nephews. Posy, who never married, is Hunter's personal favorite because she hugs him and cuddles him just like Mom and Dad do. Plus, she plays with his little people, and his animals and blocks. Posy works with Dad at the bakery and is in charge whenever he's not there, which is more and more often these days.  
  
"Yes, Hunter, Aunt Posy will be there, and maybe she will make animal cookies with the three of you." Ivy and Koal noticeably brighten at the mention of her name too. Mom puts Ivy down, and Dad sets Hunter on his feet, and soon he is zooming ahead of us, making little boy noises. Mom and Dad walk hand in hand, with Aunt Jo off to the side. Uncle Gale brings up the rear.  
  
The talk is neutral with Koal and Ivy close by. Mom is discussing the garden which is larger each year. She will have enough extra this year to bring to the booth at the Hob for several weeks. We finally reach the village, and Dad turns to Jo.  
  
"We'll be ready in about fifteen minutes. I just need to get Haymitch."   
  
"Alright, I'll be over."  
  
Mom and Dad kiss the others goodbye, and watch as they enter Gale and Jo's house.  
  
"Come on, Sweetie, part two awaits," Dad says as he leads me to the house.


End file.
